


xiii; The Kraken

by Theo_Thaur



Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [13]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego Hargreeves-centric, Diego nearly drowning himself out of stubbornness and stupidity, Gen, Klaus once again serving as weird comic relief but only in the whump of other people, One Shot, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Young Umbrella Academy, post Five's death pre Ben's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theo_Thaur/pseuds/Theo_Thaur
Summary: Whumptober 2020 submission. No 13. "BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT":  Delayed Drowning, Chemical Pneumonia, Oxygen Mask.-----At around fourteen or fifteen, the Umbrella Academy is taken out to learn to swim. Diego struggles with movement in water, where nothing is ridgid.(Or, an idea as to why Diego adopts the name 'the Kraken', loosely based in TV show canon.)
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Everyone
Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951234
Kudos: 10
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	xiii; The Kraken

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS: choking/near drowning, needles, drug references, oxygen masks, medication, some crude language.

_ xxi; The Kraken _

It wasn't too often they left the house when it didn't have to do directly with missions. In fact by Diego's count they'd only left six times since their public debut; four for Reginald to have speeches, once for a high ropes course, and once to go to a forest and work on visual mapping of new surroundings. The rest of their training could be managed within the academy, and frankly it wasn't like Reginald was going to take them anywhere unrelated to training. Diego liked getting a chance to see other places, although they didn't ever really have 'days off'. If not the stress of fighting bad guys, then it was the stress of Reginald timing them, or Reginald scribbling notes on a bit of parchment as they dealt with something he'd crafted. 

The closest thing to days off were Reginald's speeches, honestly. Diego liked to bring the materials to spitball Luther --who was adamantly listening at all times. Allison was usually off making the most of the press that came to the events their father held. Diego wished he felt certain enough in his abilities not to stutter, to choose to interact with cameras. Most of the time, Klaus fell asleep or snuck out of the area to smoke, and Ben focused on a book. There'd usually be some great moment where the Umbrella Academy was to emerge and officially greet the press, at the end of the speech. By that point, Luther was trying to get the spitballs off his neck, Klaus was trying to not look too sleepy or high, and Diego was trying to make sure the bodysuit wasn't sticking after he'd sat down for so long. Vanya was usually around, sometimes hidden backstage or in a room off to the side with the rest of them, but Vanya never came out. She didn't have the fitted black mission suit, it wouldn't have looked good for the press, which is what Reginald had explained. And Vanya didn't have the bodysuit, as he'd left implied in the explanation, because she was ordinary.

Still, as they all piled into two cars that morning after breakfast, Vanya did get to come with them. It didn't mean too much for Diego, she was sort of quiet and boring, but it was good to not leave anyone behind anyways. They'd spend the day at the public pool that had been rented out, which was one thing the Umbrella Academy training space lacked, because (after Klaus had asked), "you children would be far too distracted for your own good, and may become unable to focus on your actual powers." No surprise Reginald's reasoning traced back to controlling them. Diego had some problems with his father's way of doing things, which was putting it kind of lightly. The guy was a control freak, and Diego was certain there were things Reginald was covering up from them. He just acted like he had something to hide, and Diego had been seen guilty before. Guilty was in the eyes of the guy who'd just gotten his hand pinned against the wall with a knife, after kidnapping a high-profile figure. Diego was determined to get to the bottom of it, but frankly didn't have the skills to even begin upon it. He'd already been caught snooping around a few times and been punished with extra chores to discipline him, or training early in the morning. Going through that a few times was enough to motivate him to try and get better before the next strike. Sadly that also meant Diego was stagnant at having absolutely no case against Reginald, other than him being a jerk. But he was still determined to figure everything out so that Mom --and the whole house-- would be free of the strict influence. Until then, the distaste they seemed to have mutually (although it was hard to tell because Reginald hated all of his children), meant that it was always tense between Diego and Reginald. Diego wouldn't have it any other way, he wasn't some kind of teacher's pet.

It was early fall, the leaves on the trees hadn't, for the most part, dropped yet. Some rattled, others hung in branches in vibrant reds and oranges. In the city, winter tended to come early and stay long. Diego was particularly excited for the first snow of the year, but he didn't so much mind the fall colors either. The worst part about autumn was that Reginald still made them go out on runs around the property, in the cold. Every year they were told that if they just kept running, they'd be warm. Didn't really work.

He was nervous about swimming, and had been considering saying it was a stupid idea because they'd never actually need to know how to do it. But, Diego was beginning to learn why he couldn't speak freely. On the bright side, because there were too many of them to fit into one car, Reginald was driving half of them and Grace the other half. So Mom would be there to help keep them safe, which was good for moral support but also because Diego questioned whether or not Reginald would dive in to save any of them. He'd never needed to swim on a mission before, it seemed like a vastly important skill to have, but it hadn't come up in the few years since debut. And where else would he learn,  _ vacations _ at the beach? That was unlikely. 

Five, one of the smaller members, had used to sit in-between the two larger back seats, because there'd been nine people and two cars. Other times, Allison had squeezed between two others. It wasn't a problem anymore. Diego got stuck in Hermes with Reginald. Luther had opted for passenger seat --no surprise there--, and Reginald had allowed it but only after stating that the passenger seat should always be reserved for Luther, because "he is the most durable of all, and until you all reach the age of maturity, I find it personally unadvisable to put someone weak in the passenger seat due to safety." When he'd said 'someone weak', he'd looked from Diego to Vanya. Diego had found that comment funny because Luther had definitely just been thinking about wanting to sit next to their father like the ass kisser he was. Luther's face had actually lit up when the shotgun seat was reserved to him, until Reginald explained it wasn't a choice made on personality. Also in the car was Vanya. The others, Allison, Klaus, and Ben, were in Mercury, a blue Chevy driven by Grace. 

It was a glamorous step up from all of them riding in a bus; Reginald may be terrible but he could definitely pull off a gilded cage. Luther had tried to drum up conversation about his recent weightlifting advancement, but their father multiple times had seemed only barely engaged. When he'd had enough, Reginald put on classical music, which seemed to finally give Luther a clue. Vanya appeared happy about the change, and Diego tuned it out in favor of pouring over a comic book.

\------*´｡*ﾟ

  
  


After driving through the city to get to a quieter area of town, the two cars slowed in front of a large building --the pool was thankfully indoors. Piling out of the cars, Reginald stood by the doors and waited for them all to neatly arrange themselves in front of him. "Now, I ask that you behave yourselves today, and represent the Umbrella Academy through acting with the utmost decorum towards this facility." Represent the academy? They  _ were  _ the academy. Diego tried not to roll his eyes at the statement. From the trunk of the Chevy, Grace pulled out a box, giving them each a neatly folded swimsuit to wear. Reginald then led them down a corridor, past what appeared to be a large gym. Passing the pool, Diego could already smell the chlorine. They were directed into the appropriate locker rooms, which were fairly small, having showers and being just off the pool. Rather than changing, Klaus seemed more interested in playing with a scarce few locks that had been left on lockers. On the other hand, Luther was the first one in and out. Ben stayed behind, sitting on a bench and hunching over a book, until Klaus whipped him in the back with his shirt, which made Ben jump. 

"You brought a book to the pool?  _ Really _ ?" Klaus teased. "Do you even know how paper works?"

"I just wanted to get to the end of the chapter, dumbass," Ben grumbled, shutting his book and tucking it into a locker. Diego followed them out, not wanting to be the last one to leave because that seemed like the sort of thing Reginald would single him out for. 

They assembled out on the tiled floor, against the wall and dressed in plain black swimsuits. In front of them stretched out a long, rectangular pool. It was fairly calm, divided by buoys, and looked incredibly deep. Diego looked around at everyone, trying to see if anyone else was similarly unnerved, but no one said anything. The door of the women's locker room opened, and Grace strode out, wearing an odd-looking swim cap with plastic flowers and a dated one-piece. Reginald, on the other hand, sat on a bench with a pocket watch and a clipboard, in regular clothes. Mom beamed, moving to stand in front of them. "Okay, there's a few things we should go over. First of all, there is no running on the tile, and second, I ask that you all look before you swim. We'll be starting slow, I'll take you through everything. Any questions?" When nothing was immediately said, Klaus raised his hand. "Yes?" Mom asked.

"So… you're going in the pool with us?" He asked.

"That's correct, dear."

"And you're not gonna short-circuit?" Diego glared at Klaus, but Grace just shook her head calmly. 

"Not at all. I was created ingeniously to be able to withstand many different circumstances, although I appreciate your concern." 

\------*´｡*ﾟ

As promised, she took them through simple things first; they learned how to float on their backs, how to tread water, how to do kicks, and then the arm motions for front crawl. Diego struggled with it more than the others, especially the threading of water and arm movements. On the other hand, Luther had learned and adapted with enthusiasm, often glancing over at Reginald. Diego was used to highly physical fighting styles, his powers worked best with the blade as tangible extension of himself. Water was a different texture, a completely different feel from what he was comfortable in. Water was heavy, difficult to be pushed but never to be grasped. Just… a bunch of wobbly nothingness, made turbulent by the slightest movement from anyone. Although Mom had noticed and given him tips, it was obvious they were on some kind of schedule. The advice directed specifically to him was only more embarrassing, because it called attention to his inability to keep up with everyone else.

They hadn't even begun to try and put the kick and arm movements together, before Reginald stood. "Everyone, out of the pool now. I will be timing you to see how long it takes to get from the near end of the pool, to the far end. You must have both hands firmly on the  _ tile _ of the other side, only then will I stop your time." Hurriedly, they all got out of the pool. Alongside Luther, Diego pushed himself up on the side of the pool, rather than using the ladder. They formed a line, one that Diego put himself nearer to the end of. He wanted to give himself time to build up energy after having already endured the lessons. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself, pushing his wet hair away from his face. Luther, Allison, and Ben were in front of him. Luther did effortlessly, pushing through the water, which he kicked at aggressively. At the end, he climbed up the ladder and turned back to them with a grin. Reginald, in an act of about as much support as he was capable of making, said "Good." That seemed plenty for Luther, who was already walking back over to them. Allison and Ben were similarly skilled, gliding through the water in collected movements. Klaus protested that it wasn't fair Ben was being timed against everyone else, because he had "squid brain." 

Finally, it was Diego's turn. They were all arranged on the shallow end of the pool, the water would only get deeper the further he kicked. The way out was getting to the end, holding the solid edge of the pool in his hands --only then would it be over. Diego slipped down into the pool, the water was colder than he remembered, but there wasn't much time to acclimate. It rippled against his chest, and Diego took a deep breath, bracing himself against the wall so he could kick off of it. 

"That will not be permissible, Number Two," Reginald said sternly. "In situations of emergency, you will  _ not  _ have a head start, but instead be caught off guard." Diego complied, cheeks burning. He took a deep breath. "Any day now, or would you prefer it if I began your time at this instant?" 

"No, f-father," Diego answered, looking away quickly to stare down the expanse of the pool. He leaned himself forward, outstretching one arm and starting to kick. He did go forward, his eyes pinched shut to keep the water out, as he moved face-down. Diego tried to follow the instructions, but had a difficult time in the environment, not sure how to manage the two different movements of his arms and legs at once. 

"Make 'D' shapes with your right arm, and backwards 'D' shapes with your left!" Grace called, her voice sounding funny as water rippled past his ears. His kicks were clumsy and untimed, knees bent. He moved forward in uneven bursts, whenever a kick would land or he'd paddle his body fractionally closer to the end. Diego found himself clawing at the water, rather than cupping his hands against it. Sometimes, his body would sink further down into the water. He knew he was making a total fool of himself and kept wishing Reginald would yell at him and tell him to stop. But nothing came, and Diego couldn't bring himself to choose surrender. His muscles started to burn, especially his shoulders, and the eyes he felt on his back didn't ease the desperation. He just needed to get to the end, to prove himself. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would make him feel calm. 

How far had he gotten? Diego couldn't tell, he was still holding his breath, and he wasn't going to open his eyes to check, since they stung enough from the chlorine with him having them tightly shut. There was no way in hell he'd stop and align himself, to see if his feet could touch the bottom while standing. He just kept moving and trying to propel himself forward, to remember what he'd been taught and put it all together. The most he could hope was that he was still going straight. His lungs began to burn, and Diego, trying to satisfy that need, bucked his head up as he clawed at the water, blindly taking a breath. Though he got some oxygen back in a gasp, his head quickly sunk back under the water because he had no way of keeping himself up. Though Diego had managed to get some air, he'd inhaled water as well. His lungs protested against the water, chest contorting as he fought the urge to cough, knowing that would only exacerbate his need for oxygen. His fingers scraped out in front of his head, as he tried to grasp onto the firm border of metal at the edge of the pool, praying that it was in reach. Diego assured himself that he was there, that he was close, because it was the only thing that could keep him from feeling hopeless, from feeling heavy and clogged. His head felt thick and compacted, but luckily, Diego's fingetips had met something solid. In a burst of energy, he snatched at it, pulling himself closer. Diego held himself up on the edge of the pool, head thrown back as he gasped at air. His lungs tried to cough out the bit of water that had gotten into him, but he let himself. Diego tried not to think about how deep the pool was under his feet, how if he let go he might truly slip away --entertaining that thought just made him dizzy. Diego finally pulled himself up, feeling far too light and way too heavy all at once. He leaned against the far wall, rubbing with dripping hands at stinging eyelids.

He watched blurrily as Klaus was told to jump in, and did so with a leap that caused Reginald to yell. It was as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been struggling to pull oxygen into his lungs. Insulted, embarrassed, and tired, Diego made the walk back to the other side of the pool, only to push into the locker room. He wanted nothing to do with those artificial blue waters, but especially felt as though everyone else was watching  _ him _ , despite Klaus' usual antics. Did they think he couldn't be strong? Had they been laughing as he'd struggled to stay above the surface, in ways that no one else had? They were probably comparing his abilities to Luther's. Diego got himself a towel, rubbing at his irritated eyes and pacing. He went into another coughing fit, grateful that he was alone, that it wouldn't draw any more attention --whether menacing or sympathetic-- to him. Chlorinated water streaked down him, accompanying the pain in his chest to remind him that even though he was above water, even as he tried to avoid thinking about it, what had happened had been very real. He showered, commiting to not going back --Reginald would have to drag him out, he didn't care. Turning off the spigot, Diego went to go dry off and put on his uniform, feeling too on edge for his own good. On the way to his locker, his foot hit a puddle, slipping out from underneath himself and making Diego pitch forward suddenly. He tried to right himself, but he was falling too fast and his temple struck down against the corner of a bench. The floor, cold and wet, wrapped around him like a blanket. His mind went numb. The air smelled funny, like bleach.

\------*´｡*ﾟ

Light filtered in through the window behind him, he could sense that even with his eyes closed. Diego could still smell cleaning products, or something like it. His head hurt faintly, and Diego opened his eyes, looking around the room. He noticed the faint outline of an oxygen mask, when he looked down towards his nose. It made him nervous, but he tried to breathe in and out as normally as possible, finding it was easier to do so with the supply of oxygen. Turning his head, he saw the mask was hooked up to a small machine near the side of the bed. In addition, plugged into a vein on his arm was an IV. Whether he was being given steroids, pain medications, or anything else, he couldn't say. And frankly, he didn't want to look at it, because it made him feel light-headed and nauseous and that was the last thing he needed. Diego tried to piece together what was going on, he felt somewhat alert but… not great. 

"Took you long enough, Number Two," Reginald commented. Diego heard his voice but couldn't see him. Of all the people that Diego would've wanted to see after waking up in the family infirmary, it wasn't Reginald. Diego was unable to speak through his oxygen mask, although be attempted it. "I assume you blame me for your presence here, but that is not the case. You let  _ yourself  _ nearly drown. You could've grasped the wall to a few feet to your left at any point, or clung to a buoy," he replied. Diego grit his teeth. He hated to be lectured when he couldn't even imagine talking back. "Might I add, your stroke improved greatly near the end. You managed to coordinate your movements better in that moment of stress." Compliment though it may be, Diego didn't want to hear it. He'd done better on his stroke because he'd been  _ afraid _ , because he'd had no other option. "As you may recall, I was timing you, and you managed to not breathe oxygen for an incredibly long span of time. Although I cannot see a connection between this and your ability, it should be explored." The idea of that terrified Diego, he couldn't stand to think of it. Working with knives was one thing, he could accept other aspects of training because he wanted to excel in that. Training was something of a comfort to him, because it was a chance to beat Luther, and a way to do better on missions. But the idea of going back to swimming came off like a  _ threat _ . He couldn't stand the cold water, the dark waves trying to pull him under… "Expect a change in your individual curriculum," Reginald said, deeming their conversation over and leaving the room. Moments later, his siblings came into the room. Diego accepted that they'd probably been listening. 

"We heard there was a chlorine leak in the locker rooms." Allison said. "You had it the worst because you, you know, fainted." Fainted wasn't the word Diego would use, he would say he banged his head. Fainting was for wusses. It was a lot of information to take in, nearly drowning and having apparently inhaled dangerous chemicals --he didn't even know how long he'd been left in there.

"Yeah well, chemical pneumonia aside, I wanna be the first to say you  _ definitely _ put watered down piss and chemicals in your lungs out there," Klaus butted in, entirely ruining the moment. "Gotta love public pools. Hey, nice needles by the way!" Diego cringed. For once, Luther wasn't boastful. He still had a stupid look on his face, but it wasn't an especially pompous one, even considering Diego had probably gotten the worst score and Luther the best.

"I can't believe dad's gonna give you  _ extra  _ training for stuff that's not even your power," Luther sounded  _ jealous.  _ As least there was one positive.

"We gotta give you a cool nickname, right? I was thinking `water-lungs man'," Klaus suggested.

"That's a terrible name," Allison replied.

"Ben, do you remember that book you recommended?" Vanya asked suddenly. "On mythology?"

Ben shrugged. "Sure. It seemed like the kinda thing you'd find interesting."

"What about 'the Kraken'?" Vanya offered, cautiously. "It's a sea-dwelling creature. Strong. Because they're so large, they tend to live alone, in the darkness, and drag ships underwater all by themselves."

"We can't have  _ two  _ emos named after tentacles," Klaus answered. Vanya's face fell a little. Diego shook his head slightly. He liked it.

"He can gladly have the tentacle-themed nickname. I don't want it," Ben answered.

"Do you wanna take that nickname?" Allison asked, putting more say into it than usual, but Diego thought he understood why. Most of the others had recently taken aliases to be used by the press. It was part of marketing. He didn't want to participate in Reginald's commodification of the academy, and it seemed weird to name himself after one of the scariest things to even happen to him at that point in his life. But maybe, it would be good to embrace it, or at least consider using it with the press. Even if he turned out to be just a shitty swimmer with slightly above-average lungs. Diego nodded, and Vanya smiled.


End file.
